


Candy Apples

by ROMANCEDNP (eqyptiangold)



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst with a Happy Ending, Flirting, Fluff and Angst, Jealousy, Jock Phil Lester, M/M, Mutual Pining, Pining
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-31 01:40:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,505
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21037607
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eqyptiangold/pseuds/ROMANCEDNP
Summary: Phil Lester is the star of the football team.Dan Howell prefers wearing pretty skirts to the stuffy school trousers. Lucky for him, football players are exempt from the uniform--if he makes the team, that is.-“Good luck, Dan,” Phil said as he passed. Dan nodded absently. Now that tryouts were officially starting, he didn’t have time to continue flirting. Instead, he had to focus on making the team without breaking a nail.





	Candy Apples

I woke up to the lingering scent of paint. The smell had yet to dissipate after the remodelling of our new home. Lia Howell, my mum, had purchased a fixer-upper to replace our stiff and uncomfortable showhome. Sighing, I glanced around at my monochrome bedroom that I’d spent a month designing. Every last detail was perfect, down to the single splash of colour--a vase of fresh sunflowers. 

“Dan! You have to leave in forty minutes!” My mum’s voice echoed through the house, forcing me to slide out from under the covers. Stretching and yawning, I began the mental battle that occurred every morning. Would I rather wear the ugly school uniform or dress nicely but spend an hour in detention? Eventually, the new clothes I’d recently purchased won me over. I brushed past the dark blue plaid of my school mandated skirts, slacks, button ups, and blazers, instead pulling from my closet a vintage yellow blazer. It was the colour of daffodil petals, and fit just slightly oversized on my lithe frame. Dieting and exercise was a bitch to maintain, but it was worth it for the smooth curve of my hips, the flat, smooth tummy. My thighs were somewhat thick, a mix of muscle and chub, but I adored them all the same. With that thought in mind, along with the high temperatures, I chose white denim short-shorts with a halter top to pair with my blazer. 

I carefully hung them before stepping into the shower. Completing my morning ablutions went by quickly, or at least it felt like it. In reality, it took nearly twenty minutes to shower, wash my face, and moisturise. I carefully pulled my clothes on, sighing blissfully when the silk lining of my jacket brushed my skin like a fairy’s touch. Careful not to smear any on my clothes, I applied concealer and lip balm that made my lips shine slightly. I carefully traced my soft brown eyes with eyeliner followed by false lashes. I tied a few white ribbons into my curly hair and stepped into black high heels that I matched with a chunky black belt. Lastly, I spritzed perfume into the air and stepped through the sweet-smelling cloud. 

“Dan!” my mum called. “Chop, chop; you have to go!” 

“Coming!” I replied hurriedly, doing one last onceover in the mirror before loping into the kitchen, where my mum and brother sat. Adrian, my younger brother, was scarfing down cereal when I entered. A bowl of grapefruit sat on the counter, waiting for me. 

I ate daintily, staring at my thin wrists instead of the sugary, delicious, ridiculously high-calorie cereal my brother was consuming. I liked being able to jog more than a few minutes without wanting to keel over. I liked my body. I especially liked my clothes and didn’t want to stretch them out. 

Once I finished eating breakfast, I pulled Adrian into a side-hug and kissed my mum’s cheek before exiting the large bungalow. I considered changing into flats or trainers for the walk to school, but decided against it. I wasn’t sure if there were any hot guys in my new neighbourhood, but if there were, I intended to make a good first impression. Unfortunately, I didn’t see anyone other than a sweet old couple and a young teenager walking her dog. Absently, I considered mentioning her to Adrian; she looked to be about his age. 

The humming of my phone distracted me. I slipped it from the outer pocket of my designer purse, glancing at the familiar contact picture. “Hey, babe,” I greeted.

_ “Dan,”  _ my best friend, Thom Lynn, greeted.  _ “How’s my favourite bitch?”  _ A faint moan echoed distantly. 

“Not as good as you, apparently,” I said. “Was that Teddy I heard?” Teddy Tyst was my other best friend, and Thom’s boyfriend. They’d hated each other all the way through primary school before finally getting together after a drunken affair the year prior. 

_ “He’s jerking off,” _ Thom replied.  _ “How did I end up with a horny basketball player? Oh, how the mighty have fallen.”  _

_ “Shut up, you sexy fuck!”  _ Teddy called from the background. I snickered, glancing around the neighbourhood as Thom and Teddy bickered. They were the only couple I knew who could fight like an old married couple while one of them had their dick in hand. 

“Thom,” I sing-songed. “Did you call for a reason? As much as I love hearing you two argue, the sound of Teddy wanking is really not a sound I want to get used to.” 

_ “Right,”  _ Thom replied. The sound of Teddy faded as Thom walked into the next room.  _ “How’s your new neighbourhood? Are there any hot guys?”  _

“I haven’t seen any yet.” We talked for a few minutes longer until I reached the school. “When are you getting here?” I asked. A crowd of familiar faces walked by before Thom could answer. It was a mix of people on a similar popularity scale as me. 

_ “Soon,” _ Thom replied. 

“Okay. See you then,” I said, hanging up. I called after the crowd to wait up. They were a mix of 3.1 and 3.2 popular. 

At our school, the popularity scale was incredibly complex. The top three groups were the truly “popular” kids, with each level branching off into more classes. In class one, there were the sports players. 1.1, the top, were the footballers. 1.2, the volleyball players, and on and on. Teddy was a basketball player, meaning he was a 1.3. Class two were the cheerleaders. I didn’t bother keeping track of the subclasses within that. It was ever-changing. Class three was where Thom and I fit in. The artsy kids. I was on top of the well-dressed heap. 3.1’s were consisted of fashion-forward artists with a few writers. 

“Hey, Dan.” I was met with a chorus of greetings when I joined the crowd. It gave me a moment to adjust to the scent of smoke that clung to most of their clothes. Many of them smoked, and some of the 3.2s lit things on fire for kicks. They were the badasses with terrible grades and incredible art skills. 

“How are you planning to get away with wearing that?” a pale girl asked me. “I thought I was daring for wearing this.” She wore the school uniform, in theory, but she’d hemmed the skirt into a mini and her shirt was unbuttoned obscenely low. I was one of the only students brave enough to wear what I wanted. 

“I’ll figure it out,” I replied, smirking and tossing my head. The school bell rang shrilly, disrupting the appreciative gazes I was receiving. We moved as a pack, entering the large school and sweeping through the school. Slowly, our crowd dissipated as people neared their lockers. Eventually, I passed mine and departed from the few people left. 

I grabbed the books I needed from my locker. Just as I slammed the door, Thom and Teddy joined me. “Hey,” Teddy greeted, patting my shoulder. Since I refused to attempt any of the bro handshakes, he’d been forced to adapt. 

“Hey, babe,” Thom said, hugging me. “You look so hot. I’m jealous,” he complained, gesturing at his attire. He wore the mandated button up and blazer, though he’d replaced the ugly pants with black skinny jeans. 

“While you do look lovely, Mr. Howell, I’m sure you’d look even better in the uniform.” A grouchy, old warble interrupted us. Her voice was immensely sarcastic. 

“Mrs. Carrej,” I greeted, turning to face the miserable old hag. “The lipstick on your teeth looks especially stunning today!” 

“Detention,” she barked. “I’ll see you after classes.” I accepted the pink slip she shoved at me. 

“For me? Really?” I muttered, grinning in response to her scowl. I’d always switched between sweet and sassy at the flick of a switch. Do no harm but take no bullshit. 

I sighed as soon as Mrs. Carrej walked away. “See you later, boys,” I said, hugging Thom and kissing Teddy’s cheek. 

Seven hours and six boring classes later, I exited detention. I’d spent a majority of the hour talking. I always enjoyed getting to know new people or catching up with the regular customers. However, all I wanted at the moment was to get home. Unfortunately, a crowd of people stood in my way. Two girls and two boys, all clad in street clothes. A gym teacher sat behind them, slouching in a chair with his whistle balanced on his beer belly. The students stood behind a table with sign-up sheets on it. 

“Hey!” one of the girls greeted. “Want to join the football team?” 

“Why don’t you have to wear uniforms?” I asked, ignoring their question. 

“Join the team and you won’t have to either,” the girl replied. “All sports players are exempt this year!” She’d barely finished speaking before I was signing my name on the boys’ sign up sheet:  _ Daniel Howell _ , in a neat, swirly script. 

“See you at tryouts,” one of the boys said. 

  
  



End file.
